The Wooden Egg
by CopperGryphon
Summary: A story about Lyra's daughter, Freya, and how she attemts to follow in her mother's footsteps... This is my first Fanfiction story, please R


_This would go many years after the Amber Spyglass, but there won't be any story spoilers. Also, there is a bit of mystery about Freya's father and...we haven't decided who it ex exactly. So you can decide, whoever you like best._

Freya sat on the bed, swinging her legs rhythmically back and forth, her dæmon Caspian curled beside her as a red fox.

"Should we?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him with sly eyes. "No one would know, at least at first, and by then we could have run far away. Come on, what's the harm? They wouldn't dare hurt us."

"This isn't a game," snapped Caspian with a swish of his tail, but she could tell from his narrowed eyes that he was eager for the fun.

"It'll be fine," Freya insisted, scooping her dæmon up in her arms and trotting from the room with him.

Freye and her dæmon had lived at Jordan College for only a little while, but already they had been swept away in the games that echoed the tales her mother told, tales of battles with the village children and also armoured bears and witched of the North. But even more amazing was her mother's golden compass, which she kept so safely guarded that Freya had only twice seen it out. But she and Caspian speculated that she took it out late at night, away from the curious eyes of scholars, to watch the golden hands tick round. This had captivated the minds of Freya and Caspian, and for many years they had wished to hold it themselves; but their chance had not come until tonight.

The move to Jordan College from their little home in the county had needed a great amount of packing, and nothing was more carefully packed than the golden compass – the true name of which Freya couldn't be bothered to remember.

Now, after the chaos of their arrival, everything had been jammed into their rooms, with little protection, and her mother had been swept of to talk to this scholar or that one, and Freya had been only too happy to be left out of it all. She was less happy about being left in her new room, but it was this that gave her the chance of getting hold of the golden compass.

"Careful," hissed Caspian as they came close to Lady Silvertongue's rooms, and found the sturdy door locked. But this was no obstacle for Caspian, who became a flea, slipped underneath, then became a monkey and slid the key into the door.

Both girl and dæmon winced at the heavy clunk as the door swung open. She stepped into the luxurious room, her feet sinking into the thick carpet. She marvelled at the rich sheets on the bed, and the carvings on the tables and chairs, and knew her mother must be very important at the college.

"There's no time for gaping at everything," said Caspian, reverting to his fox form. "We need to find quickly. What do you think she would do if she found us?"

"Nothing terrible," said Freya, her nose wrinkling. But she hated to imagine the rage her mother would be in if she found someone meddling with own, precious compass. She shook herself and moved toward the huge stack of boxes that were piled in a corner of the room.

Caspian turned into a monkey and opened a box, carefully lifting out the contents and staring at them before putting them back. Freya meanwhile had opened a large crate and was doing the same.

There were a great variety of instruments and books and clothes and other stuff in the boxes, but though they searched for almost half an hour there was no sign of the golden compass.

"Hey," cried Caspian finally, "look what I found, it's-"

"Shush!" snapped Freya, her ears picking up the clatter of footsteps in the hall. "We're never going to find it, let's go!"

With and annoyed chirp Caspian bounded after her to the door.

Freya slid to a halt, and curled her fingers around the door to peek out. The hall was empty, but she could hear the sharp tap of footsteps from the stairs.

Quick as a flash she and her dæmon darted away, dodging around furniture and hiding behind corners, then slipping into the safety of their room.

That was when Freya noticed the little sack hanging from her dæmon's paws.

"Caspian, what is that?" she groaned. "You didn't take it from Mother's room did you? We agreed just to look! Now we'll never get it back. Give it to me."

Caspian bared his teeth at her, but tossed it over so she caught it in her dirty hands.

Freya rubbed her fingers across the ragged cloth, then found the opening and pulled it open. She slipped her hand into the dark hole that opened and pulled out a little wooden ball.

It had once been polished smooth, but was now worn and scratched. It was just the right size to fit into her fist, and as she turned it over, a flash of light caught her eye. There was a small mirror set into one side, smooth and silver, reflecting her startled face back at her.

Suddenly she froze, for she could also see a faint white line... As she looked closer, she realized it was not a line, but the ridge of a hill, sparkling with snow. A black sky curved over it, sparkling with stars. And along the top of the hill came a huge shape, shining in the light, and she gasped. A great bear stood in the snow, and ancient armour encrusted his back and a pointed helmet shielded his face. He stood as if waiting for something, and before long a little girl, bundled up in furs so tightly she could hardly walk, ran up to him, her dæmon running behind her. Freya was startled at her bravery, remembering her mother's tales of terrible battles between the bears, and how they could crush someone with a single blow. But this girl seemed to have no fear, and to Freya's delight she climbed onto the great bears back and they charged off into the snow. Then flakes whirled up and clouded the mirror, and Freya could see was her pale face in the candle light, and Caspian's mouse whisker twitching as he turned to stare at her.


End file.
